


hello today, 'cause I got heaven in my veins

by CrystallizedInsomniac (orphan_account)



Category: Block B
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Denial of Feelings, M/M, Robot/Human Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-08-18 20:27:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20197666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/CrystallizedInsomniac
Summary: Here's another secret: Minhyuk delights in the thrum oflife, of being. Existence.





	hello today, 'cause I got heaven in my veins

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the song **Hello Today** by **Black Honey.**

Minhyuk is turning nineteen, on a cold winter night out with friends, when he first steps foot inside an adult club.

He doesn’t realize where he’s headed, too busy getting high off of the friendly air around the group of friends he’s decided to call a family, to notice that from the restaurant in the nice part of town where they had just been celebrating his birthday and passage into actual adulthood they had ended up on a darker-lit neighborhood.

It only registers when the group begins to quiet down, the rowdy energy containing itself into a small bubble as the older guys—by two, maybe three years at most—tell the others to quiet down, that the fun was just about to begin.

They’re standing outside a building with a single neon-lit sign with a word in English he doesn’t recognize, the heavy bass of the music inside a small rumble on the ground he steps on.

The cold air of the night bites at the tip of his nose, flushed red and sensitive when he turns to the side and nudges Park Kyung—whom had tagged along at some point of the night because apparently this is what geniuses younger than him are allowed to do—motions to the club, where a small line of men and some women are formed, waiting.

“So, uh-“ he begins but isn’t sure where to even go, because—he’s not sure if there’s any point to them being here.

When the guys from his business class had mentioned taking him out to celebrate his birthday, ten days short from Christmas, he hadn’t expected to end up…here.

Because Minhyuk for all of his naivety—which wasn’t much to begin with, thank you internet—and lack of experience, isn’t that slow to not understand _where_ they are and what they’re going to do.

He’s a bit nervous, excited even. Feels out of place, and the sensation is weird—_new_.

“I don’t think they’ll let us in,” Kyung sounds upset, and a part of Minhyuk thinks that maybe this isn’t the place you take a seventeen year old, not even if they’re smart enough to have skipped their last year of school and head directly into college.

But then again, what does he know?

And well, Minhyuk only gives Kyung a shrug because _yeah_, they’ll probably won’t let them in.

They’re past the age of a growth spurt and they don’t look like they just started high school but there’s still and undeniable youthful look to the both of them, and it screams underage and—

Yeah. There’s just no way they’re getting let inside.

Surprisingly enough, once they reach the door and the bouncer at the door asks for everyone’s IDs, Kyung and him hover between the group uncertain.

The bouncer takes a good look at the two of them, no doubt sticking out like a sore thumb when compared to the men they’re out with—and he lets Kyung in.

The man stares at Minhyuk with a displeased quirk of his mouth, and Minhyuk is struggling to not look away from the unflinching stare, refusing to back down.

His determination falters though when he notices that he’s the only one from the group that has not been let in.

He’s about to tell the guys that he’s going home, make up a shitty excuse about how his parents just called when one of the older guys from the groups shouts a “hey,” and makes his way back to the entrance.

He seems impatient, but the energy isn’t exactly directed at him.

“What gives?” He asks, like bringing in two fucking kids to a place like this isn’t ethically wrong, “He’s with us. Let him in man.”

The man clicks his tongue, and when he opens his mouth Minhyuk just _knows_ he’s going to tell them to eat shit.

The petty part of him—trying to push down the disappointment that is lodging itself at the bottom of his throat—wants to call Kyung out and say _hey that little shit over there is only fucking seventeen_.

Because he fucking knows that if Kyung is inside and he’s not the guy is going to hold this one over his head for eternity.

And fuck being mature you know? Because when you’re Park Kyung and have the ability to get under people’s skin, maturity flies out the window real quick.

Except, the older guy—whom Minhyuk is struggling to remember his name, a tag along from another class he’s not taking but is friends with one of the guys that had made up the whole outing in the first place—hands the bouncer some money and soon enough Minhyuk is inside with the others and—

Shit. Okay, that was, something.

Instantly he’s surrounded by the cold air and the purple-blue-white neon lights decorating the walls, the hallway they’re in is small and dark and the bass from the music—further up the club—makes the wall _shake _with the beat.

He’s snapped out of it when the guy who helped him get in slaps his back and with a big smile says; “Don’t worry birthday boy, we’ve got you.”

And sure, yeah. He feels the beginning of a smile stretch on his lips and follows the rest inside.

At the end of the narrow hallway the room begins to expand into a much wider area. There’s a couple of steps illuminated by neon purple lights that make their way down into a lower area of the room.

Minhyuk looks around, takes notice of the small tablets and extravagant chairs that make up the lounge—occupied by other people, _lots_ of people—and the artwork adorning the walls, all of them emitting a soft glow that draws your attention to them.

On each side of the room elevated small, round platforms line the floors with six people on each side standing on them.

They are women and men, all in different states of nudity or clothing, their bodies swaying along to the sound of the music across the club.

Each platform has a circle of comfortable looking chairs surrounding them, people paying attention to the dancers like a private little show.

Minhyuk feels his cheeks flush when one of the dancers—a lithe looking young man with alabaster skin glowing like a damn ethereal creature—extends his toned leg and with highs that look impossible to walk on, lightly places his heel-clad foot on one of the guest’s chest.

He’s smirking sensually at the man, before his eyes flicker upward and meet Minhyuk’s.

He tilts his head, interested, and Minhyuk’s mouth runs dry. The warmth in his face feels like is running down his body and the only reason he’s snapped out of it is because Kyung taps him in the shoulder, says something that Minhyuk only catches the “-over there” at the end.

He—regretfully—looks away and towards where Kyung is pointing at, and the “wow” that leaves his mouth is involuntary but totally deserved.

There are further steps leading down to the very center of the room where a moderate-sized stage is placed on.

There are more people here, all of them eager to watch whatever it is that’s going to happen soon enough.

Of course their modestly sized group is instantly drawn to it, and when they all find themselves a nice tablet where all ten of them can fit in, Minhyuk takes a deep breath.

He’s not sure what he was expecting, but a part of him feels satisfied, like this could actually be a fun time. Hell, even watching the people dance and maybe drink the night away into the early hours of the morning sounds nice.

The lights dim at one point, and him and Kyung too engrossed in their own conversation and also staring at the dancers on the side, don’t notice until the place quiets down.

There’s smoke coming from a fog machine to the side of the stage and the music goes from an upbeat fast-paced sound to that of a slower, sensual sound.

When the dancers come out, he’s completely enthralled.

Not because of their partial nudity or the glitter that adorns most of their bodies, but because it’s in this place that he _truly_ begins to appreciate and understand why people worship, why people dance.

The body is a dangerous instrument, and these dancers? They know how to use it for their own gain.

The display in front of him is something he’s never seen before, and it is goddamn _beautiful_.

x

Here's a secret: Minhyuk has a soft spot for beautiful things.

In all shapes and forms, it explains why after months of consideration he changes his major and goes from business to being a dance major. His parents, already struggling to pay for his college tuition tell him that they can't afford to pay for something that will keep him unstable for years to come, and Minhyuk get's it, he does. 

So he gets a part time job at a cafe that Kyung calls pretentious and hipster—because even after he completely cut himself off from his friends for a while, Kyung stuck by his side like an annoying piece of lint—but is everything he ever wanted to be a part of in terms of aesthetics.

He graduates college with honors and various awards in dance competitions, the part time job he got when he was younger soon turns into his full time one while dancing becomes his side hobby—the little treat he'd give himself after a long week of work. 

He indulges in all the types of dancing he can get his hands on—from ballads to tango, to the hip-hop scene. He develops a passion for the Caribbean music, the energetic hum of bachata and merengue making his blood run in a way he's never felt before. He especially loves the _people_. 

Dancing—he comes to realize one summer afternoon at a beach with the hot sand under his feet, in between his toes, and warm firm tanned hands grasping onto his as they sway to the music—is only as good as the people that make it happen. The magic, he thinks as he watches his partner smile and laugh with some much joy as she trips on her feet and lands on her back, pulling him down with her, is shaped by who the person is and what they do with it.

Not for the first time, he thinks to that night at the club and the muscles flexing and moving like water to enthrall. He looks at the girl, a foreigner in Korea looking for a good time, and thinks;_ I will be a part of your memories_. 

Here's another secret: Minhyuk delights in the thrum of_ life_, of being. Existence. 

x

At twenty-eight, Minhyuk likes to believe he's made himself a very small but close circle of friends that he can depend on. People he actually likes and can call when he has an emergency. Good people, _reliable_ people. 

And Minhyuk? He likes to believe he's also a dependable, supportive friend. Which is why when Jihoon formally invites him to the new event he's hosting, he finds it very difficult to make up an excuse and not attend. It's one thing having to live among-side them, it's another to show up at one of these events—even though there's been like three tops, this one making it the official third—and act like he actually, genuinely care about what's going on.

Don't get him wrong, he's not against the idea of Androids, and seeing how they've developed nicely in the last six years there's really no reason to complain. He _should_ be excited to see how his young friend has led the progress of humanity into something better, with humanoid Androids making their way into people day to day lives. It's just—

He doesn't get it. 

All around him he's distantly aware of the people moving around, some stopping to gawk and praise. He's looking up at the person on the small circular platform, smooth skin perfect and unblemished. They're waving, giving people their attention whenever they stop to say hi or something. Blue icy eyes peer at him for the seventh time in less than ten minutes, not a flicker of irritation or awkwardness shows up on their face. Instead, the person smiles;

"Is something the matter?" The voice comes out friendly, and it irks Minhyuk a little.

Maybe it's the wine, he figures. He gives the android one last look before he walks away.

It doesn't take him long to spot Jihoon in the crowd—he had just finished giving a speech Minhyuk's sure he'll be hearing for the next few weeks following this event—and is crowded by a huge amount of people. He can hear his booming laugh, and in between heads of people Minhyuk catches sight of someone next to him. Smile in place and soft, inviting.

Minhyuk figures he can wait a little bit, lets him enjoy his moment. He saunters over to the nearest bar and orders another drink. He leans on the counter, eyes lazily scanning the crowd. People come up to him to spark up conversation—often looking disappointed and confused when they ask what he does and he responds with _I own a cafe_, _Mujabee _and then when asked how he even got into the event _I'm friends with Jihoon _they turn super friendly.

At which point Minhyuk tells them that no, he's not going to ask Jihoon for a favor. It's usually the little look he gives them that makes them scurry off.

Not that he's the most entertaining thing in the room. All around the room there are humans and androids intermingling, with the newest models launched at tonight's event on pedestals being gawked at like they're some miracle or some shit and—well, _yeah_, they are.

But Minhyuk doesn't see the fascination behind them besides their utility aside from making things easier for them—the humans. Doesn't understand why they're praised and looked upon like they're _real_, like they can have genuine feelings and emotions and memories. 

"You look upset," The new voice catches him off guard and he chokes on his drink. He glares at the person next to him and finds Taeil looking at him, mouth curled up just the tiniest bit.

His blue eyes seem to be mocking, and it sends a shiver down Minhyuk's spine whenever he remembers that it's just a bunch of ones and zeros making it work.

"You look like you're not minding your business." He grumbles, wiping the bit of alcohol that escaped from his mouth. Taeil let's out a hum, satisfied and not bothering to correct Minhyuk.

"When am I ever minding my business," Taeil snorts and taps his fingers against the counter. Minhyuk hadn't noticed up until now, but there's a certain quality to Taeil's movements now, smoother, softer. His fingers tapping against the counter don't sound metallic anymore, they sound softer. He squints at him.

"Did you get updates?" And okay it's been six years, and while Androids have become a norm in society Minhyuk never really learned any etiquette about what's okay and not okay to ask. But then again, it's Taeil, and he's known him for six years now since his creation. Some times it's difficult to remember he's not flesh and bone.

"Depends on what you consider updates," Taeil shrugs. He tilts his head to the side. "Looks like Jihoon is done."

Sure enough, the crowd around the younger man begins to dissipate and Jihoon makes his way to the two of them, with the new person following after him. Minhyuk eyes the new guy, and wonders if Jihoon got himself a model as a boyfriend and when that had happened. There's a certain air to him though, and Minhyuk doesn't know what it is about it until they get close enough and he sees the eyes.

_Oh. Huh._

"Hyung!" Jihoon greets him and instantly goes for the hug. Minhyuk, who has a soft spot for the younger man, let's himself be squeezed until he can't get any air. Jihoon let's him go after Taeil starts giggling and the other android is standing there not sure what to do. He keeps away from Taeil, though. "Thank you for coming! I was so nervous."

Minhyuk raises an eyebrow, "You? Nervous about what?"

Jihoon fiddles with his thumbs, "I don't know, it's just there's a lot of pressure what if they hated the new launch?"

Minhyuk stares at him, not entirely sure what he's supposed to say. "You know you could tape knives to a fan and they'll be kissing the very floor you walk on right?"

"That is true," Taeil hums.

The new android remains silent. Jihoon shakes his head.

"You know what I mean," Jihoon says and _no_, Minhyuk doesn't know. "But that's besides the point. I want you to meet someone!"

Minhyuk nods and trains his eyes on the android. He can already tell that this is a case just like Taeil—another android that Jihoon is keeping for himself, _improvements_ he once had said about Taeil. 

"Hey," Minhyuk gives the android a small smile and watches as the man blinks, tilts his head and then looks at Jihoon before he turns to look at Minhyuk again.

"Pleasure, I'm Jaehyo." He extends his hand out and Minhyuk shakes it. There's a certain warmth to it that Minhyuk's never felt before in any other androids that are available to buy, and Minhyuk just knows that if Kyung were here him and Jihoon would probably scream like nerds about it.

Minhyuk, who doesn't have the knowledge or th interest to know how any of this works, thinks is a little neat thing Jihoon's done. Now he wants to know if Taeil has gotten that same update to his—software? programming?.

"You can also call him zebra," Taeil says and Jaehyo's grip on Minhyuk's hand tightens briefly before he lets go and rapidly turns his attention on Taeil. There is an embarrassed look on his face as he regards the shorter android. 

"Stop calling me that."

"No, what are you gonna do about it?" 

Jihoon looks at the two of them with this odd mix of excitement but also worry. It takes Minhyuk a second to realize what's going on, and the laugh that bubbles out of his chest is enough to draw Jihoon's attention back to him.

Minhyuk gives him a small smile, playful, "Holy shit you really made Jaehyo for Taeil to bully?"

Jihoon's ears redden, and he looks away. "Uh. No."

_Yeah, sure. _

"In any case," Jihoon snaps back to his usual cheery self and the excited look on his face has Minhyuk equal parts worried and intrigued, he nods for his friend to continue. "I've been working on something—for a while now actually. I could use your help."

Minhyuk hesitates, "how does that involve me? You know I'm not Kyung."

Jihoon shakes his head and moves to grab his wrist, Minhyuk lets himself be dragged off somewhere else. Distantly as they move away from the main room and into a more private looking hallway, he hears Taeil's laughter ring sharp and clear. "Exactly, you're not Kyung. That's why I have a favor to ask of you."

Minhyuk lets out a non-commited 'hmm', just follows along.

x

Somewhere between the few weeks before summer officially started and his graduation, Minhyuk meets Pyo Jihoon.

See, Minhyuk doesn't make it a habit to drink early in the afternoon and even less be on his way to drunk on an afternoon, on a _weekday_ , but circumstances find him doing exactly just that and it has everything to do with the fact that he may or may not be going through a life crisis and yeah, _sure_— he's only twenty-one with a stable job and a diploma to boot soon enough, but as it is he's still human and—

He's not perfect, and one thing would pile one after the other and sometimes he can't just take it you know? He might be the person people come to for advice and whatnot, but at least he's honest enough to admit that his coping habits aren't exactly the best. He's not looking for the best coping mechanism, he's looking for something to ease the pent up energy that's had him snapping at Kyung for small things.

So, drinking.

Kyung's been texting him like crazy all afternoon, so when his phone goes off again in his pocket he doesn't pay it attention. He's got a bottle of beer in one hand and the heat is making his clothes stick to him like crazy. He's sitting down on the steps in front of a shop that's about to be closed for—possibly drugs, he doesn't really care. All he knows is that the spot is unusually cool and its secluded enough that he doesn't have to worry about the police giving him a ticket for public drinking.

Kyung texts him again. 

Minhyuk grumbles, fishes his phone out of his pocket and proceeds to stare at it. The screen isn't even unlocked before Kyung texts him again, and the buzzing is enough for him to do something stupid. Like say, throw his phone away.

It ends up hitting a guy he didn't even know was standing there and _fuck_—

"Shit," he curses loudly and struggles to stand up from where he's sitting. He magically doesn't fall face first on the ground, although given the circumstances it would've been fair, the can of beer he had in hand though, that does fall to the ground in a clatter that he easily ignores. Minhyuk moves towards the guy, and something heavy drops in his stomach when he realizes it's a fucking _kid_. 

_There goes any thoughts of buying an apartment_, is the first thing that comes to mind, then, _shit._

"Hey, hey," He doesn't know what to do with his hands so they hover awkwardly around the figure. The kid is bent over, clutching the side of his face and Minhyuk can tell he's taller than he is by a few inches, scrawny looking to, "I'm so sorry are you okay?"

"Y-yeah," the guy stutters out and the deep voice gives Minhyuk whiplash, maybe it's not a kid? "It's fine, it just-"

Minhyuk cuts him off, "are you sure?"

The guys sniffs once, and Minhyuk is just feeling shittier by the minute. His brain decides to blame Park Kyung for this. Ironically, his phone—now on the ground several centimeters away with a broken screen—goes off. Park Kyung.

"Yeah, I am. It's fine." The guy repeats and rubs his face, stands up. He's got such a young looking face, that when he speaks again Minhyuk has a hard time associating that voice with it. "It's just been a bad day overall."

Minhyuk will blame it on the alcohol loosening his tongue, this isn't how he usually ends up meeting people. "Tell me about it."

He doesn't expect the guy to chuckle, "If you throwing your phone at me is any indication..."

Minhyuk rubs the back of his neck, "again, sorry about that..."

The guy waves him off, and the smile he directs towards Minhyuk is _too_ friendly, it honestly makes him just a tad uncomfortable. "Like I said, no big deal."

"Oh," Minhyuk says because he doesn't know where to go from here. The beer already went to shit and his mood is just... indescribable. 

"Although, I could go for some food..." The guy trails off and looks at Minhyuk expectantly. 

It's sad to say it takes a him a whole twenty seconds to process what's going on and _yeah_, okay. It's the least he could do. 

"Sure uh," He begins and looks around the area as if it's going to be of any help to see where he could take this guys to eat. "Do you... I mean. Sorry, what's your name?"

"Jihoon," and then he bends down to pick up Minhyuk's phone from the ground. He hands it over to Minhyuk, "You are?"

"Uh, Lee Minhyuk." He doesn't offer his hand or anything because he's too busy staring at the guy's face trying to see if his phone will leave a bruise. "And uh, what do you do?" Because Minhyuk figures that's less rude than outright asking for his age.

Jihoon doesn't even hesitate when he says that he's still a high school student and yeah, okay. Minhyuk's not this kid's parents to be telling him to not hang out with strangers two years his senior. Let alone one that was on his way to getting drunk during a work week.

In the end they end up hitting some small restaurant that Jihoon takes him to. The guy is explaining how good the food is and how he comes here with his best-friend when he's not busy because _"he's trying out for the whole idol thing, and he's so good so sometimes I feel like i'm going to be left behind you know?"_

And yeah, Minhyuk knows.

When they enter the restaurant, the people working there greet Jihoon like they're family and a part of Minhyuk cringes at the fact that Jihoon apparently comes here frequently enough that he's on first name relationships with these people. When the workers inquire about Minhyuk by saying "Jihoonie, who's your new friend?" and Jihoon replies like it's a goddamn normal occurrence that "he threw a phone at my face and is now buying me dinner" and the people laugh, Minhyuk wants to crawl in a hole and die.

He doesn't know how or why he hasn't made an excuse to leave yet. He could easily give the guy some money and go, but they end up getting really heavy and personal and—shit man, he just can't help but feel bad you know?

"So that's why I'm kinda trying to figure things out you know? I don't want to be more of a disappointment." Jihoon sighs, and leans his head on his propped up arm, he looks at Minhyuk. "Do your parents ever, just..."

"Yeah," Minhyuk replies. Sure, he might not come from a wealthy family that expects him to get in the family business and is instead off playing around with... whatever it was Jihoon is doing, but he gets it. The feeling of pressure put on parents, to be something they want but something you yourself aren't too keen on. "The thing is, they'll either have to learn to deal with it, or they cut you off.

Jihoon snorts, "Yeah that's not happening. They care too much."

Minhyuk shrugs, "I still think you should keep working on your project though. They might think it's a waste of time, but is it really?"

"I guess..." Jihoon says, but doesn't sound too convinced by Minhyuk's words. "I've been working on it since I was a kid. Hm."

They don't breach the subject again, and somehow Minhyuk ends up getting the guy's phone number. 

Later that same year, he will find his new friend's face plastered all over the news. The words "First Humanoid Android Created" a legacy that would forever stick with him.

Minhyuk texts him that night, something along the lines of_ what in the actual fuck i didn't know your little pet project was building goddamn humans._

To which he gets a _:)_.

So, he needs new friends.

x

"—eally private, so you know... he's kind of special." Jihoon is looking at him expectantly, but Minhyuk is more focused on his surroundings.

See, it's not to say that Minhyuk hasn't been over at Jihoon's before—on the contrary, he's come visit so many times now that he could easily walk the layout of the mansion with his eyes closed. What he hadn't done before was enter the private area of the mansion where Jihoon apparently worked at.

A lot of things pop into mind, "I thought you had a separate workshop." Being one of the first ones. Lab? is this a lab? There's a bunch of steel tables with instruments he isn't familiar with, and all around strewn pieces of mechanic parts and some... more human looking ones. "Isn't this dangerous?"

If it weren't for the cables and circuits he can see at one end of each limb, Minhyuk would've been concerned. Even then, it's a bit, weird, to see human appendages just lying around.

Jihoon scoffs, "Why would it be dangerous," He lets go of Minhyuk's wrist—which he had held on to as he walked the two of them away from the main area of the event that's currently being held in his same property, and honestly, _rich_ people. Minhyuk doesn't get them—and begins to move throughout the room with a sense of purpose, he's not even stopping to show Minhyuk anything.

Which means he really came here with a single goal. It's fine, Minhyuk doesn't mind.

Since Jihoon didn't exactly not tell him to not look around, he begins to slowly make his way further into the room. Chances of them being disturbed by anyone else minimum—even though the lab is within the same building, there's a lot of security measures in place, Minhyuk figures no one gets in unless Jihoon really wants to—so he begins to slowly follow Jihoon to the other end of the room.

The tables are lined with a lot of blueprints, random gears and cables strewn around. Minhyuk's caught staring at an arm, slender in design. When he picks it up, he's surprised to see that it weighs absolutely nothing. He brings it closer to his face, trying to decipher just how it's even working. It feels like almost nothing in his hand and—

The arm twitches, and Minhyuk drops it. It clatters to the ground and Minhyuk's flinching away from it. Except no sound comes.

He looks up from the floor and to where Jihoon's at. He's still distracted, mumbling to himself trying to find whatever it is he wants to show Minhyuk.

Minhyuk quickly bends down to put the arm on the table and hurries towards his friend. 

"So, uh." Minhyuk rubs his arm, "you found what you were looking for?"

"No," Jihoon pouts. His suit—possibly worth more than anything Minhyuk owns—is stained by a dark liquid, Minhyuk's eyes flicker to the side and finds what looks like... oil? ah. "I'll just ask, hyung." 

Jihoon takes out his phone and Minhyuk finds himself looking at the screen. He watches as Jihoon scrolls through his contact list, struggles to find whoever it is he's trying to get in contact with, and then once he does he begins writing a message.

It takes Minhyuk a couple of seconds to realize who he's texting, "Taeil has a phone?" 

Somehow the image of an android using a mobile phone is amusing.

"He is the phone," Jihoon replies as if that explains anything. 

"Okay," Minhyuk replies, not sure what else to say or do. Obviously touching stuff is out of the question. For all he knows he fucked up that piece over by that table over there.

"Ah, right!" Jihoon grins and once again grabs Minhyuk's wrist. He's dragged out of this room and down the hallway until they reach yet another room. This one, unlike the others they've gone through, require Jihoon's retina scan and Minhyuk's pretty sure by now that he's going to die. Somehow.

Cube style.

"Like I was telling you," Jihoon begins once the door slides open. Minhyuk's eyes are instantly drawn to the figure hanging from the ceiling by metal wires. His heart skips a beat, and it's only the rational part of his brain that's telling him—_this isn't an actual human, it's just a machine_—to not throw up. "I'm working on this new model of AI, clearly he's incomplete but—"

Minhyuk steps forward, not noticing how close he gets to the android until he has to tilt his head upwards to get a better look at it. 

The room is barely illuminated, dark with blue and white lights that only illuminate certain parts of the room. The android hanging from the ceiling is missing the lower half of it's body—where smooth, perfectly unblemished skin finishes and gives way to circuit boards and cables and then nothing, Minhyuk's eyes trail all over it's body. Minhyuk finds himself taking a deep breath.

In the background, Jihoon keeps on talking.

His eyes go from the android's stomach all the way up to his chest. He notes that Jihoon has spent a lot of time in customizing this one. From a further glance, you wouldn't be able to tell this apart from other androids, the older models, but there's definitely details that they lack, like the skin texture. Minhyuk brings one finger to trace along it's sternum, pressing forward to notice that there's even space behind the skin, it almost feel like an actual human body.

Minhyuk breathes out slowly. Continues his examination. His eyes find themselves moving upwards towards the android's face. It's tilted downwards given that the wires that keep his arms upheld—really the only thing that's keeping the whole android up—are not holding it, or it's neck up. Minhyuk finds himself cupping the android's chin.

He stares at it's face, his eyes closed make his eyelashes—long and pretty—curl delicately, barely brushing skin. 

Minhyuk takes a step back, drops the android's chin and it falls back to it's previous position. Black hair, pale skin. 

It's honestly not that different from the other androids he's seen, give or take a few of the cosmetic differences. That and that his face is unique, no other model available to buy has it. Besides that, and the fact that it's missing it's lower half, Minhyuk doesn't understand what's so especial about this one. 

"...so I guess I'm naming him U-Kwon," Jihoon shrugs. Minhyuk's gaze lingers on the android's palm before he turns to look at Jihoon. He feels uncomfortable.

"....What is it exactly that you want me to do here?" Minhyuk traces one finger along a pronounced "vein" in the android's wrist. He looks at Jihoon. 

Jihoon looks guilty, like the next thing he's about to say he knows will upset Minhyuk. Minhyuk grows a little irritated, doesn't mean to snap but—"Jihoon, spit it out."

"I just want him to learn from you." Jihoon's face flushes, and his eyes no longer meet Minhyuk's.

"I..." Minhyuk blinks, not sure—not for the first time, and certainly not for the last—what he's doing here. "Learn from me?"

"You know, like... dancing." Jihoon fidgets in place.

_Ah._

Minhyuk takes in a shaky breath, "Why would an android need to know how to dance?"

"It's... it's not the dancing only." Jihoon sighs, steps towards the android. "I can't explain it, but I just feel like this would be a good experiment."

"An experiment," Minhyuk's lips thin out. "Jihoon, listen I understand that what you're doing here is—revolutionary. But they're just machines." 

Jihoon shakes his head, "No. That's where you're wrong! I just need time to prove it, okay."

"Jihoon..." Minhyuk sighs, rubs the bridge of his nose. 

"Please, hyung." Jihoon begs, "just—just think about it."

He hates making promises, but Jihoon is clearly giving him the option. A part of him feels flattered, that Jihoon believes him to be the best at dancing—he could've gone to anyone else, famous people, people who_ actually_ dance for a living. Not.... not Minhyuk. 

He eyes the android one more time, it's sleeping face unreadable. 

"I'll think about it."

x

Minhyuk tries to hide the grimace on his face when he swallows down the first gulp of the latte he ordered. It obviously fails, and a small part of him feels just the tiniest bit guilty when the barista sighs—resigned, usual—and takes the cup away, placing it with the other five to the side.

Minhyuk tries for encouraging, "hey, still better than the last one." It isn't a lie. 

To which he gets a: "Still shitty," and yeah, he has a point. 

What Jiho lacks in milk skills, he makes up for in determination. Minhyuk isn't that bothered by the growing cartons of milk that have been used just these last twenty minutes alone, if it's all for the sake of improvement. It also helps that he's _very_ good friends with the owner of the company that distributes the organic milks he uses in his shop. 

Still, it's been about a week or so of Jiho coming in to the shop an hour before opening to work on...this.

Minhyuk doesn't judge really—hell, he welcomes anyone that wants to work for him. Woo Jiho however, is a different case. 

"I still don't understand why you don't just hire a 'droid to do this, certainly would bring in more people to the shop." Jiho's voice is only partially muffled by the sound of him turning the steam wand on, he's got one hand holding the jug and the other on the side. Minhyuk tells him to raise the jug.

"For the same reason you don't want androids taking over the music industry," Minhyuk knows it's a personal subject and he doesn't feel anything when Jiho's lips tilt downwards, displeased. 

"It's not the same," Jiho mumbles. He turns the wand off and taps the metal jug on the surface of the counter, Minhyuk watches as no milk splashes back and can instantly tell it's not a latte.

"So you say," Minhyuk hums. He watches Jiho pour the milk on the cup, and before the younger man can turn around to give it to him to taste, he says; "Cap."

"Fuck off. It's definitely a latte," Jiho's face flushes ever so slightly. "I did the same thing as before."

"No, you were making froth. It doesn't take a genius to see from here that it's not a latte." 

Jiho, Minhyuk notes, looks absolutely adorable when gets upset. There's a certain edge to his eyes as he looks at Minhyuk that is cold, but not exactly directed at him. It's a look he's seen before on stage from the younger man, and not for the first time he wonders just what _exactly_ Jiho's looking for here.

He's clearly not cut out for barista, that much is evident. Minhyuk _knows_. 

Jiho's got a clear future in the music industry, at twenty-six with an already large fanbase in the underground hip-hop scene, he's most often than not out performing in festivals and being the opening act to other bigger artists in the industry, not to mention his own few solo concerts—and Minhyuk's been at a few, so he knows what he's talking about. The kid is good, too good, to be spending time learning how to be a barista for pay that isn't even half what he makes standing on stage for an hour.

Woo Jiho is _expensive_, in all senses of the word. And yet here he is on a Wednesday morning trying to make lattes, a dirty black apron stained with milk and chocolate powder, and struggling to make latte art. Even the clothes he wears to come do his training with Minhyuk in the mornings, as simple as they might look, they cost money. Far much more than what he'd make in a month.

When Kyung had mentioned that his best friend from childhood wanted to do something new, he had jokingly said to send him over to his shop. Not a day later Jiho shows up, looking completely out of place. 

It's been a weird month, truth be told. 

Jiho looks up at the clock, and Minhyuk's snapped out of his thought process when he hears the younger curse. Almost opening time.

"It's different you know," Jiho begins, cleaning the steam wand, the counter. "Having an android in your shop."

Minhyuk raises an eyebrow, stands up from the stool he was sitting and moves to the back counter to help Jiho break down the milk cartons. "How come?:"

"Well, for starters—they wouldn't have a shitty attitude early in the morning." The pointed look he shoots at Minhyuk is enough, Minhyuk shakes his head.

"That's just my personality, it's lovely. My regulars love it."

"Seriously. Androids would bring a larger public to your shop. _Sure_, they might not be a new thing, but people look for convenience." Jiho bends down to look into the cabinets, looking for the sanitizer. When he finds it he stands up again, and begins spraying the counter. A cloth in hand, he begins to wipe the surface. "Androids bring that convenience." 

"Jesus kid, you're starting to sound like a fucking CEO." Minhyuk bites back a laugh when he notices the way Jiho's looking at him, all seriousness in place.

"It's _smart,_" he shrugs, "Androids make less mistakes. I want to start my own company, hyung. Numbers and all that? Makes sense we'd leave it to a machine to do the hard work and not have to worry about any potential mistakes. That's what they were made for after all, our convenience. " 

Jiho takes Minhyuk's silence as a sign to continue; "Think about it. Sales here would increase if you had a barista that made drinks efficiently, didn't have a temper in the morning, and would _always_ get the drinks right." 

"Are you telling me you want to quit?" Minhyuk raises and eyebrow, leans on the counter, and watches as Jiho's face flushes ever so slightly. "Because it's starting to sound like it."

"No!" His eyes widen, "I like doing this. It's relaxing."

Minhyuk crosses his arms, "This isn't your personal therapy center, Jiho." 

"I'm just saying, hyung. It's different." Jiho licks his lips. "The music industry... it can't be touched, at least, not the _pure_ one. You have these idol companies trying to sell to the public these android idol groups, and it's so artificial... there's no feeling to it. At least where I'm at, it just won't happen. You could at least get ahead of the game, don't be left behind."

Jiho sounds frustrated... and Minhyuk can understand that, but his wording leaves a bitter taste at the back of his throat. 

"So how is it any different—this passion, and authenticity—from what we're doing here?" He doesn't mean for it to come as harsh, but the conversation has hit a personal spot and he doesn't know if he's supposed to feel offended or—

Jiho blinks, like he can't understand why Minhyuk is asking him such a stupid question, "You wouldn't understand."

Minhyuk's smile is forced when says; "I'll see you tomorrow, Jiho." 

x

Minhyuk texts Jihoon that night.

He can't help but replay his conversation with Jiho that same morning, and considering he hadn't gotten back to Jihoon about his proposal, Minhyuk's feeling a little bit _impulsive_. 

_Okay._

To which he gets a reply not two seconds later that reads: _thank you so much! love you lots hyung thank you thank thank you!_

And that's it. He has an android now—or _will,_ once Jihoon sends him over. 

It's kind of anticlimactic, if he's completely honest. He's not sure why that's so disappointing on itself. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my fic for @Andromeda_Bee on Twitter for the Block B fanwork frenzy! They wanted a dark fantasy/sci-fi fic and I've been dying to write some android themed fics for the longest now, it. I hope you like it because I sure had fun writing it, and the sci-fic aspect kinda won me over ;w;
> 
> Split it into two, because I'm still not happy with some of the scenes written and I still want to go over them (and life kinda got in my way too, not even going to lie). //bows down, sorry.
> 
> come yell at me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/genhuxsolo).


End file.
